


Han Solo Could Wait

by Cerdic519



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AO3 1 Million, Cuddling & Snuggling, M/M, Star Wars - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2018-01-13 02:26:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1209340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A ficlet to mark the AO3 1 million mark. Dean and Cas where they belong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Han Solo Could Wait

Dean flicked his fingers across the touchscreen, and winced. Nine days since he’d manned up and told Castiel, Angel of the Lord, that he had romantic feelings for him. Nine days. Two hundred and sixteen hours. Lord knows how many minutes. 

He shifted in the bed, and winced again. Nine. Very. Long. Days.

This website Sam had told him about – AO3 – was entertaining, and maybe yeah, it had encouraged him to finally man up and talk to Cas, but really? Some of the stuff on it about Cas being an innocent when it came to matters of the horizontal persuasion? Hah! The guy had been around for millions of years, and he’d seen it all. And in the past nine days. Dean had learnt just how deep that knowledge bank was. The Marianas Trench had nothing on it!

There was a hand caressing his right foot, gently teasing along the instep. It shouldn’t have been in the least erotic, and Dean most definitely did not let out a yelp when he felt it. It was a manly, if high-pitched cough. It was.

The hand was removed, and Dean was just about to try to get his heartbeat back to normal when he felt the feather brushing around his knee. He seemed to have suddenly lost full motor control of his hands, both of which were shaking. Somehow he managed to turn off the tablet and place it on the bedside table, as the feather moved painfully slowly higher and higher.

Damned angel! He was deliberately by-passing the center of the action, and kissing Dean’s hip before brushing the feather slowly up his ribcage. Dean uttered something which an uncharitable person may have considered a whine; whatever it was, it brought forth a dirty chuckle from around his midriff.

“Cas!”

Not the nipple, not the nipple, not the nipple, not… the bastard! Still, it was nice to be doing something mundane in bed for once. A new bed; Cas had broken the old one with that circus trick of his three days ago, and it had taken two days for a replacement to arrive. Though the intervening days had seen Cas take him on virtually every surface in the house. Putting the washing-machine on long cycle before Cas hoisted him up on top of it had been one of the worst decisions of Dean’s life. Or maybe one of the best.

And now the bastard was nuzzling into Dean’s neck, his curly dark brown hair tickling Dean’s nose in the process. 

“What’s next, Cas?” he muttered, almost fearing the answer, and hoping he’d eventually be able to stand up afterwards.

The angel turned a pair of dazzling blue eyes up to him, and smiled lazily.

“I just thought I’d like to cuddle for a while”, he said quietly.

And that was Dean’s manliness, handing in its cards and high-tailing it out the door. And amazingly, Dean just didn’t care.

“I can do cuddling”, he smiled happily. Okay, it was unmanly, but it required very little effort.

“Thank you, Dean”, the angel beamed. “And then after dinner, I might wear the Han Solo costume.”

Dean gulped.

“Okay”, he managed, in a voice that far too high.

“Provided you are Princess Leia!”

Dean would have swatted him for that, but the last time he’d done anything like that, Cas had dug out that thing with the hairbrushes and statically-charged sweaters that had had Dean thinking death by angel-induced orgasm might not fit on his headstone. Besides, Cas deserved some cuddle time.

But when they finally got up to get some dinner, Dean swatted him.

Han Solo could wait….


End file.
